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2025 Repress

FINALLY! The very first commercial release of two legendary remixes of Arthur Russell's "In The Light Of The Miracle". Both are widely regarded as transcendent masterpieces and very much befitting of the title “holy grails”.

These long-beloved mixes are the types you'd wish would last for eternity. With almost 30 minutes of music here, we very nearly get our desires granted. At last, these jaw-dropping mixes are widely available to every Arthur fan in the world. This is musical perfection.

The deep Loft classic "In The Light Of The Miracle" remained unreleased during Arthur's lifetime, finally discovered when Phillip Glass included the original version on Another Thought on Point Music in 1993. As Steve Knutson told us, when Another Thought was being put together, the plan was to release a companion album of remixes that was overseen by Steve D'Aquisto but the project only got as far as these two remixes of "In The Light Of The Miracle".

Some dodgy scans of some centre label designs suggest that Point Music might’ve been planning to release these on a 12" but it didn’t happen. The story goes that Gilles Peterson heard the remixes on a visit to the Point Music offices and wanted to release them on Talkin’ Loud. We’re not sure how many white label copies made it out into the wild, but again, these remixes didn’t make it to a proper release.

These remixes both extend and undeniably enhance the original, elevating it to new heights. The 13 minute remix on the A-side is by Danny Krivit & Tony Smith with editing duties performed by Tony Morgan. As ever with Arthur, the music is almost impossible to describe: is it Disco? Garage House? Avant Garde? None of these tags do full justice to its sheer majesty. You best just listen. Stretching out the original with some unbelievably great percussive elements, until we're in a deeply spiritual, otherworldly realm, it's just too beautiful for words. As many have claimed, it's the prototype for EVERYTHING.

The "Ponytail Club Mix (Part 1 & 2)", produced by Tony Morgan in the mid-90s, is in a more up-tempo style, with vocals higher in the mix, the BPM upped to 120 and the addition of a housey 4/4 kick drum. A 14 minute epic, you could say this is a more straight ahead "club-friendly" mix (but can things ever be that straightforward with Arthur?!) It also has some really interesting vocal parts not used in the other versions, including some vocals from guest poet Allen Ginsberg.

These remixes are part of the same original project that also produced the Another Thought album so it seems only right that they have a sleeve that matches. Thanks again to Janette Beckman for letting us use another of her photos of Arthur and the rest of the design follows what Margery Greenspan, Tina Lauffer and Michael Klotz did for Another Thought back in 1994.

Simon Francis remastered the original audio for both tracks and Cicely Balston's precise cut for Alchemy at AIR Studios ensures this 12" well and truly slaps. The immaculate Record Industry pressing will ensure this incredibly sought-after treasure finds a home in many more collections, this and every year.

Living in the present is an album built around the work of American minimalist poet, Robert Lax (1915-2000) who is widely praised for his artistic concept of reduction, in which a pause becomes as important as the things said.

The album brings together the sound of Robert Lax reading his poetry, narrative field recordings by Nicolas Humbert and subtle yet imaginative timbres by Carina Khorkhordina (trumpet) and Miki Yui (electronics) who is also behind the final mixing of the album.

Living in the present is drawing from an archive of audio recordings originally made by film maker Nicolas Humbert while shooting a film on Robert Lax entitled Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, ( Nicolas Humbert and Werner Penzel, Germany, 1999) The film was made on the Greek island of Patmos where Lax has lived withdrawn for 3 decades.

More than 25 years after the premiere of Why Should I Buy A Bed When All That I Want Is Sleep?, Humbert, Khorkhordina and Yui are revisiting the original audio material and patiently open worlds within worlds, pointing to new harmonic textures and isolating timbres, synchronizing different layers of time and traces of various locations into a new composition in its own right.

In some ways this album feels like an expansion of the work Humbert and Penzel did with Lax across six years, between 1993 and 1999, where they developed a unique intimacy in their textual-visual collaboration. On two long pieces, for each side of the album, “Where do i begin” and “One moment passes, another comes on” respectively – Yui’s electronics and Khorkhordina’s trumpet interweave beautifully with Humbert’s field recordings, in a manner that shadows the reflective reduction of Lax’s poetry. Indeed, it's no surprise that Lax’s poetry draws musicians into its orbit; it offers the curious a welcoming reduction in which only individual words and syllables represent the essence of language.

Lax’s poetry is notable for its qualities of near-stillness and its capacity to pause the reader’s thought, asking them to hold the sensuality of language for an extended, quietly revelatory moment. His readings on this album share a similar cadence, interested in settling with syllables, with single or several words, for an extended time.

Ultimately, Living in the present unfolds with unforced grace and poetics – one moment passes, then another comes on. (Jon Dale)

Off The Record (faitiche 39), the new album by French collagist Roméo Poirier, is an amusing romp through the discarded history of recording studios. It contains fourteen miniatures based on accidental recordings of studio talk, revealing things that were never meant for the public: we hear instructions from studio staff, scraps of talk between musicians, or just microphones being adjusted, as well as false notes, false starts: everyone stops. Start again: 1, 2, 3, 4!

Poirier’s approach recalls Accumulation, an artform practiced by Arman, Jean Tinguely and Daniel Spoerri that involved piling up everyday items into assemblages. The objects themselves often remained unaltered, the artistic gesture consisting in the careful curating of a distinctive selection. Poirier’s audio collages explore similar terrain. The fourteen pieces on Off the Record combine more than a thousand found sounds from studio archives into complex miniatures. The audio content of these outtakes is twisted, stretched, cut, reassembled, slowed down and accelerated. Voices cut into a microgroove, from a very old recording, intertwine with digital voices gleaned from YouTube. All of them in dialogue, engaging the listener with the impression of being part of a new music group.

Poirier uses the mundane routine of setting up before the actual recording gets underway to tell a universal story about working in a recording studio. And he manages something few achieve, transforming specialist knowledge into a narrative whose beauty goes far beyond its immediate subject. It speaks to everyone, because the story is told in a musical language that is open and accessible, evoking magical images reminiscent of Oz – a world consisting less of events than of camp hallucinations, captured in grainy black-and-white photographs. En passant, Poirier shows us how the notion of material accumulation can produce great art.

Written and produced by Roméo Poirier, mastered by Stephan Mathieu, photos by Roméo Poirier, graphic design by Tim Tetzner.

Lucas Chantre, aka WORLD BRAIN, last graced us with a solo release half a decade ago, with 2019’s Peer 2 Peer. As its name suggests, that album explored the promise and perils of universal connectivity via quirked-up songwriting and instrumental psychedelia. His new release, Open Source, deepens this internal and external journey. Bursting beyond the four walls of ‘bedroom pop’ and reflecting a move from Berlin to Paris—where much of the album was recorded—and on to Brussels, the album has a jazzy, cinematic scope (as on the Brubeck-inspired march “Fromage collatéral,”) enveloping the listener in a cosmic-pastoral audiosphere.

There are still many tones that evoke the software sounds of decades past (the exemplar here is “cAPTCHA,” whose virtual marimba and vocalese suggest a breathless, Exotica-inspired introduction .mov for the information superhighway) but the palette has become richer and more organic, lead by the woodwinds which play a major role throughout, with flute provided by labelmate Martha Rose. (On the aforementioned “cAPTCHA” one also hears the world-class whistling talents of the incomparable Molly Lewis.)

Yet the single most noticeable new element may be the use of Chantre’s native French, sung by his sister on “Ville fleurie” and the gorgeous, fluttering “Minute papillion” (the title an idiomatic injunction to slow down!) Chantre initially wrote these lyrics in English, but felt something wasn’t quite right, only realizing what was off when he heard them sung in another language. That spirit of discovery – of finding a new spark in returning home – suffuses Open Source. It invites us to play, beckons us to relax, reminds us to find serenity amidst the churn of the present: minute papillon, dans le tourbillon.

Rivet’s new album for Editions Mego is an uplifting and joyous affair coming in the wake of tragedy and disenchantment. It is yet another rebirth from an artist willing to take a step back and reprise the current situation he is in. Mika Hallbäck has a long credible history in the Swedish underground. First recognised for his industrial techno works under the Grovskopa moniker he worked privately on more experimental works that eventually came out as On Feather and Wire, an album released on Editions Mego in 2020. After much acclaim for this bold new direction that blended electronic abstraction, pop and industrial forms into a heavy synthetic trip two tragedies struck. One was the passing of label boss Peter Rehberg and then the passing of his dog Lilo, who was as close as a companion one could have. These events led to the release of the more unsettling follow up L+P-2 (Lilo and Pita minus two) on Midnight Shift Records in 2023. Peck Glamour sees Rivet return to the reawakened Editions Mego with an album of optimism inspired by reconciliation with loss and further explorations of new mental/sonic realms.

Hallbäck defines his approach as not being married to any particular machine, instrument, process or genre. However he holds a particular affinity to sampling, of which, he says, provides the dirt and grit amongst what would otherwise be pristine, generic machine music. The contemporary crate digging method of scouring obscure download music bogs for unique sounds was his preferred research practice.

Peck Glamour is an album full of tracks brimming with the excitement of exploration. It's the results of a mind informed by punk, industrial, techno, dancefloor, disappointment, trauma and rebirth. Here the synthetic and authentic is viewed simply as the same means of human rationale and expression.

The opening, ‘Catch Up to Light’, sets the scene with ecstatic and odd fluorescent vocals sliding amongst crystalline likembe whilst synths swirl amongst the external festivities. ‘Orbiting Empty Cocoon’ is somewhat a homage to the alien sound worlds of The Orb, one which takes the listener deeper into a mind melting array of teased potential as visual elements are executed in a mask of audio wizardry and euphoric staccato rhythms, the later being a nod to Singeli music. ‘Patitur Butcher’ is more dance frontal utilising the Ghatam drum and a YouTube rip of a Chinese language lesson. ‘Plastic Bag Putain’ was made during the beginning of Russia's invasion of Ukraine and should be clear of its intent. ‘All that Heaven Allows’ is a marimba cover of an imaginary Love Parade anthem. 'Kyrie Geire’ potentially briefly fills the void left by the demise of Coil. The entire trip of Peck Glamour is sewn up with ‘We left before we came’ whereby extraneous recordings of double bass player Gregory Vartian-Foss (tuning/strumming/moving the bass) are superimposed with local field recordings to create a gorgeous bed of sounds acting as an exciting exit music to this sharp collection of cinematic ear excursions.

Russell Haswell and Florian Hecker have both a long history with Mego/Editions Mego. Individual releases have peppered the Mego catalogue since Haswell’s Live Salvage 1997->2000 cd release (MEGO 012) in 2001 and the debut Hecker release IT ISO161975 (MEGO 014) in 1998.

The individual exploration of sonic phenomena by these two practitioners has resulted in both being highly regarded for their uncompromising approach to sound as matter. Russell Haswell and Florian Hecker came together as a collaborative duo with the now-legendary record Blackest Ever Black, somewhat inexplicably, on the classical imprint of Warner Brothers.

In 2025, Hecker and Haswell return with a new album featuring the two-channel edit produced initially for their UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23, performed as a live diffusion across 8-channels at the X100 Festival, Berlin, 2023, celebrating the 100th anniversary of Xenakis' birth.

This record furthers the duo's exploration of Xenakis's UPIC system as the sole instrument. The UPIC is a computer music system that generates sound from visual input. The original intention of the system developed by Xenakis was to make a utopian tool for producing new sounds accessible to all, independent of formal training. One can locate footage of Xenakis and a group of children making drawings for the system in the 70's.

The duo set off experimenting with a diverse array of hand-drawn images to feed the UPIC system including news photographs of disasters and atrocities, "food porn" through to depictions of the natural world and microscopic images of molecular structures (including 'the blackest ever black'). The resulting eccentric audio from these images is claimed by the artists to heighten synaesthesia and is as mysterious as it is baffling.

Throughout UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23 frequency clusters move and morph in the most unusual manner, shifting and stretching into shapes that hint at some kind of magical process. What starts out deceptively simple soon unravels into a large array of sonic mayhem. Symbolic jet planes are shredded by a swarm of insects, a metal bowl howls into the void, a tiny tin toy crawls into a thicket with the resolute aura of a black hole. A burning geyser of laser forms liquid shrapnel. This is sound as an alchemical process, a constant chimerical flow into the netherworld and is the net result of the decades long radical investigations by the two artists involved. UPIC DIFFUSION SESSION #23 is a direct, rich and rewarding listen for those willing to invest time into the outer limits.

Back by popular demand! Dive deep into the depths of the underground with Waterworld, the singular and legendary collaboration between two of hip-hop’s most innovative minds — Cage and Tame One — operating together as Leak Bros. Originally released in 2004 on Eastern Conference Records, Waterworld has remained a cult classic: a surreal, grimy, and conceptually bold record that transforms the world of PCP (aka “leak”) into an immersive sonic hallucination.

Woozy textures, gritty East Coast production, and vividly warped lyricism, earned the album its iconic status among underground heads. Across tracks like “G.O.D.,” “Dead Out,” and “Got Wet,” Cage and Tame One embody fictional leak fiends navigating an absurd, paranoiac landscape of drug-fueled delusion. The beats, handled by producers like Mighty Mi and Camu Tao, are hypnotic and lo-fi, dripping with eerie samples and warped loops that match the narcotic haze of the lyrical content.

Both a conceptual experiment and a raw snapshot of early 2000s hip-hop’s shadowy edges, Waterworld remains as strange and captivating today as it was two decades ago. This repress preserves the original tracklist and aesthetic, with newly remastered audio pressed on high-quality vinyl — perfect for longtime fans and new listeners ready to get wet.

‘Best tunes for your answering machine’ is the debut album of oblique, introspective electronic music by the mysterious solo artist Tekamolo.

Fusing melancholic synth pop and absurdist trip hop, ‘best tunes for your answering machine’ is a special assemblage of pitch-modified vocals, retrofuturist samples and freeform electronics that coalesces into music both outlandish and bittersweet, playful and profound.

Produced by a renowned artist, opting to conceal their identity under the guise of a new pseudonym, Tekamolo presents a series of curious, incognito confessionals with ‘best tunes for your answering machine’. An album led by a voice like a sentient, heavy-hearted android, the nine tracks collected here contend with themes of inertia, solitude and longing, revealing an inspired, affecting stream of messages from an unknown caller.

Without preconceptions tied to provenance, this is music liberated from the burdens of biographical detail. Music that eschews ego and the cult of the self. An album that can be heard purely for the strange, poignant sounds unfurled throughout.

For Tekamolo, the album signifies an attempt to navigate aesthetic reductionism, as well as an absolute sense of seclusion:

“An audio diary of a lonely soul. Broken, wounded mantra-songs. Memories of things that never happened. Dreams that never had the chance to be dreamed. Disassembled songs. As if testing the limits of emptiness — how much void can a song endure while still remaining a song? How much can be stripped away, how bare can it be, and still, the groove lingers, the melody pierces the memory, sinking into the listener's mind.

These are the skeletons of songs, an attempt to assemble music from the bare minimum — words, sounds, fragments of memory.

The songs are filled with desperate calm. They are not sung to the world, nor to anyone tangible, but solely to oneself and to the unseen. In a way, they could be considered songs of the end of the world: you wake up, and there is not a single person left in the world. At least, no one you can see. You wander through empty streets and deserted shopping malls, humming softly to yourself, hoping that someone — anyone — might hear you.”

‘best tunes for your answering machine’ is a sui generis conception of warped 21st century blues from an enigmatic figure, a work filled with surreal, indelible songs of modern isolation. Lost contemporary hymns, now recovered. Voicemails worth hearing.

The extroverted blend of attitude, energy, and ostentatiousness that spills from the New York Dolls’ self-titled debut can be seen in full view on the album cover. Depicting the quintet in its hallmark flash-and-trash apparel and in drag appearance, the 1973 album scared away a considerable amount of potential listeners while capturing the attention of a sizable audience that recognized the band for what it was: zeitgeist pioneers who helped develop the punk and glam rock movements.

Named by Rolling Stone the 301st Greatest Album of All Time and by Mojo the 49th greatest album of all time, New York Dolls receives long-overdue audiophile treatment on Mobile Fidelity’s numbered-edition 180g 45RPM 2LP set. Sourced from the original master tapes, pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing in California, and housed in a Stoughton gatefold jacket, this collectible version marks the first time the group’s career-making statement is available to be experienced in audiophile quality.

Far from harboring the crude elements that became associated with the punk scene, New York Dolls benefits from keen production overseen by none other than Todd Rundgren. Though more accustomed to working far higher-caliber musicians, Rundgren — taken by the New York Dolls’ charisma and cool, if not their instrumental approach — fully understood the ensemble’s aesthetic. He captured what went down at New York City’s Record Plant with an astute blend of live-on-the-floor feel, raw authenticity, and professional acumen.

On Mobile Fidelity’s definitive-sounding reissue, you can hear those facets as well as key details, dynamics, and textures with previously unimaginable insight. Rundgren preserved generous degrees of grit, grime, and grease while bestowing the raucous music with elevated levels of separation, solidity, and impact every landmark recording deserves. His vision extends to introducing choice accents — barroom piano notes, Moog synthesizer passages, Buddy Bowser’s honking saxophones — that add to the songs’ appeal without interfering with the primary architecture.

Afforded extra groove space on this pressing, the tenor, presentation, and attack of both vocalist David Johansen and now-iconic guitarists Johnny Thunders and Sylvain Sylvain come across with stunning vibrancy and vitality. The New York Dolls often seem headed off the rails and into the red, but somehow, the strut, swagger, and sloppiness — and the associated sleaze and scruff, scrape and snarl, frenzy and feverishness those characteristics entail — remain together as a whole that shakes its collective fist at the frustrations, isolation, disarray, and disillusionment of youth chaos and urban decay.

Kicking off its debut with “Personality Crisis,” cited by Rolling Stone as one of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, the band makes obvious its grasp of alienation, deviance, displacement, and suburban disaffection — as well as its capacity to play hanging-by-a-thread boogie, noisy rock ‘n’ roll, and Brill Building-inspired pop. The lipstick-kissed New York Dolls possesses traits many of its harsher predecessors would overlook: joyfulness and melody, topped with a knack for knowing how and where to take a song inside of three-and-a-half minutes.

Dive and dash with the belligerent “Looking for a Kiss”; stomp your feet and clap your hands to the big choruses of “Jet Boy”; surrender to the demands and provocations of the coded “Vietnamese Baby”; decide whether “Bad Girl” yearns to explode or implode. It’s one of several tunes here that allude to the world coming to end. Of course, that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for a fling before everything burns. “There’s no place I gotta go,” yowls Johansen. And he means it.

Adorned with tonal crunch, glitter, and gristle, New York Dolls takes pride in its brashness and brattiness. The rambunctious effort, which earned the band the distinction of being voted both “Best New Group of the Year” and “Worst New Group of the Year” in the pages of Creem, displays knowing reverence for the blues without calling attention to the style. The folk-laden “Lonely Planet Boy” is nothing if not a collision of heart-on-the-sleeve emotions and the desire in the face of challenges to maintain a tough-skinned exterior. An interpretation of Bo Diddley’s “Pills,” complete with shivering harmonica and clattering rhythms, announces there’s no cure for what infects this band. It’s that contagious. And how.

His deliveries gushing with campy fun, playful irreverence, and sheer decadence, Johansen doubles as the equivalent of an open fire hydrant that spouts at will. He’s at once tender and vicious, serious and tongue-in-cheek. On arguably his finest hour on the album, Johansen’s phrasing, passion, and lyrical ambiguity alone turn “Trash” into an insistent glam-rock gem whose echoing harmonies and girl-group references stamp it a pop classic.

Too much, too soon? Only for those averse to some of the finest rock ‘n’ roll ever put on tape.

The album, celebrating its 40th anniversary in 2025, features legendary singles like
"Blind in Texas" & "Wild Child", as well as fan favourites like "Ballcrusher", "Jack
Action" & "Widowmaker." Known for their over-the-top theatrics & electrifying stage
presence, W.A.S.P. & their anarchic frontman Blackie Lawless took the world by
storm--but it was their music that won them a legion of devoted fans.
This new black vinyl edition of 'The Last Command' features audio that has been
remastered at half-speed for a superior & impeccable listening experience, breathing
new life into an album that helped defne 1980's heavy metal.
"One thing is for certain, in the annals of metal there are very few bands like W.A.S.P."
Metal Hammer
In 2024, W.A.S.P. celebrated the 40th anniversary of their explosive, eponymous debut
'W.A.S.P.' With a relentless schedule of shows planned throughout 2025 as well as
appearances at numerous festivals, the band remain as ferce & vital as ever &
continue to dominate stages worldwide.
Madfsh previously issued 'The Last Command' on black-&-yellow vinyl as an exclusive
for UK RSD. This new edition, featuring the same remastered audio, is now presented
on classic black vinyl & made widely available, ensuring that fans everywhere can
experience this landmark album in its fnest form.

Originally issued on Hut Records in October 2002, Human Conditions built on the success of Alone With Everybody, retaining the new fans he had gained with that record - This re-issue replicates the 2002 UK first pressing and is available on audiophile 180g double vinyl in gatefold sleeve.

"It's a beautiful world," sings Ashcroft on opening track and lead single "Check The Meaning". Its eight-minutes seem a culmination of all of Ashcroft's work to date – a haunting guitar figure, swelling strings, and subtle orchestration back a lyric that catalogues the battle of love over evil, ending with Ashcroft assuring the listener "It's gonna be alright." It is a powerful beginning to a powerful album. "Buy It In Bottles" maintains the introspection of "The Drugs Don't Work", a mood that can be also found on "Running Away" and "Lord I've Been Trying"; while "Bright Lights" and "Paradise" bring the anthemic rock.

When Brian Wilson guests on one of your albums, it suggests a certain status has been attained; Richard Ashcroft demonstrated that he could hold his own in such company; both are songwriters of the human condition, and the song Wilson appears on "Nature Is The Law", closes Human Conditions in stellar fashion.

Repress!

In the mid-1970s, a force of nature swept across the continental United States, cutting across all strata of race and class, rooting in our minds, our homes, our culture. It wasn’t The Exorcist, Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, or even bell-bottoms, but instead a book called The Secret Life of Plants. The work of occultist/former OSS agent Peter Tompkins and former CIA agent/dowsing enthusiast Christopher Bird, the books shot up the bestseller charts and spread like kudzu across the landscape, becoming a phenomenon. Seemingly overnight, the indoor plant business was in full bloom and photosynthetic eukaryotes of every genus were hanging off walls, lording over bookshelves, and basking on sunny window ledges. The science behind Secret Life was specious: plants can hear our prayers, they’re lie detectors, they’re telepathic, able to predict natural disasters and receive signals from distant galaxies. But that didn’t stop millions from buying and nurturing their new plants.



Perhaps the craziest claim of the book was that plants also dug music. And whether you purchased a snake plant, asparagus fern, peace lily, or what have you from Mother Earth on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles (or bought a Simmons mattress from Sears), you also took home Plantasia, an album recorded especially for them. Subtitled “warm earth music for plants…and the people that love them,” it was full of bucolic, charming, stoner-friendly, decidedly unscientific tunes enacted on the new-fangled device called the Moog. Plants date back from the dawn of time, but apparently they loved the Moog, never mind that the synthesizer had been on the market for just a few years. Most of all, the plants loved the ditties made by composer Mort Garson.



Few characters in early electronic music can be both fearless pioneers and cheesy trend-chasers, but Garson embraced both extremes, and has been unheralded as a result. When one writer rhetorically asked: “How was Garson’s music so ubiquitous while the man remained so under the radar?” the answer was simple. Well before Brian Eno did it, Garson was making discreet music, both the man and his music as inconspicuous as a Chlorophytumcomosum. Julliard-educated and active as a session player in the post-war era, Garson wrote lounge hits, scored plush arrangements for Doris Day, and garlanded weeping countrypolitan strings around Glen Campbell’s “By the Time I Get to Phoenix.” He could render the Beatles and Simon & Garfunkel alike into easy listening and also dreamed up his own ditties. “An idear” as Garson himself would drawl it out. “I live with it, I walk it, I sing it.”



But as his daughter Day Darmet recalls: “When my dad found the synthesizer, he realized he didn’t want to do pop music anymore.” Garson encountered Robert Moog and his new device at the Audio Engineering Society’s West Coast convention in 1967 and immediately began tinkering with the device. With the Moog, those idears could be transformed. “He constantly had a song he was humming,” Darmet says. “At the table he was constantly tapping.” Which is to say that Mort pulled his melodies out of thin air, just like any household plant would.



The Plantae kingdom grew to its height by 1976, from DC Comics’ mossy superhero Swamp Thing to Stevie Wonder’s own herbal meditation, Journey Through the Secret Life of Plants. Nefarious manifestations of human-plant interaction also abounded, be it the grotesque pods in Invasion of the Body Snatchers or the pothead paranoia of the US Government spraying Mexican marijuana fields with the herbicide paraquat (which led to the rise in homegrown pot by the 1980s). And then there’s the warm, leafy embrace of Plantasia itself.



“My mom had a lot of plants,” Darmet says. “She didn’t believe in organized religion, she believed the earth was the best thing in the whole world. Whatever created us was incredible.” And she also knew when her husband had a good song, shouting from another room when she heard him humming a good idear. Novel as it might seem, Plantasia is simply full of good tunes.



Garson may have given the album away to new plant and bed owners, but a decade later a new generation could hear his music in another surreptitious way. Millions of kids bought The Legend of Zelda for their Nintendo Entertainment System back in 1986 and one distinct 8-bit tune bears more than a passing resemblance to album highlight “Concerto for Philodendron and Pothos.” Garson was never properly credited for it, but he nevertheless subliminally slipped into a new generations’ head, helping kids and plants alike grow.



Hearing Plantasia in the 21st century, it seems less an ode to our photosynthesizing friends by Garson and more an homage to his wife, the one with the green thumb that made everything flower around him. “My dad would be totally pleased to know that people are really interested in this music that had no popularity at the time,” Darmet says of Plantasia’snew renaissance. “He would be fascinated by the fact that people are finally understanding and appreciating this part of his musical career that he got no admiration for back then.” Garson seems to be everywhere again, even if he’s not really noticed, just like a houseplant.

Novoa/Kamaguchi/Cleaver Trio Delivers Electrifying Second Volume
A Bold, Experimental Fusion of Density and Dialogue

"The wait is over. If you’ve been holding your breath since hearing Novoa/Kamaguchi/Cleaver Trio, Vol. 1, it is time to let it out. Vol. 2 is almost here! The group has returned to 577 Records once more, serving a heaping second helping of addictive musical brilliance that comes out in May.

Even The Wire magazine celebrated the trio's first album, calling it “a deep and thoughtful release” – and Vol. 2 is no different. Eva Novoa is the Barcelona-born pianist/composer taking the world by storm with her creativity and talent. And she is back to wow us again on the piano, Fender Rhodes, Chinese gongs, and a little whistling.

To complete the trio, she chose her longtime comrade and collaborator of some fifteen years, bassist Masa Kamaguchi, and Detroit drum wizard Gerald Cleaver. The group has performed live in NYC since 2017. They made their first record (Vol. 1) with 577 Records in 2024. Their highly anticipated Vol. 2 marks Eva's fourth album with the label.

In their upcoming release, Novoa steers the trio through elegant experimentation of its full potential, confidently grasping golden threads from great masters of music to shape her own melodic universe. The multi-instrumentalist says it’s where melodic density meets contrapuntal dialogue, a free interplay of rich textures and riveting, masterly improvisation. This smooth complexity is what gives rise to the group’s uniqueness.

Like Vol. 1, the album cover art features the work of Novoa’s friend and collaborator, popular street photographer Richard Sandler."

Eva Novoa - Piano, Fender Rhodes, Chinese Gongs & Whistling.
Masa Kamaguchi - Bass.
Gerald Cleaver - Drums.

Recorded on January 19, 2020 at Oktaven Audio, Mount Vernon, NY by Jeremy Loucas.
Mixed and mastered by Jeremy Loucas at Sear Sound, New York City.
Photography by Richard Sandler.
Graphic design by Sergio Vezzali.
Graphic support by Mark Smith.

First ever release of pioneering radiophonic / experimental / electronic / soundtrack composer you may never have heard of but really should have by now. 26 tracks in all.
As we began the mammoth task of whittling down material for this album Elizabeth recalled the time she met Delia Derbyshire. It was during a party for existing and former Radiophonic Workshop composers at BBC Maida Vale in the early 1980s. Delia introduced herself with typical energy and exuberance proclaiming "It's up to you now - I'm passing the baton. Show these men how we get things done". That must have been quite an honour and responsibility for a young, female composer establishing herself within the male-dominated environs at Delaware Road.
Looking back over a musical career spanning almost five decades, it's clear Elizabeth rose to the challenge and made her mark. She was consistently in demand with television and radio producers, composing for an array of ground-breaking, critically acclaimed and popular BBC projects. Whilst Delia's legacy has achieved mythical status with her position as an innovator and feminist icon secured, the majority of Elizabeth's recorded work remains unavailable so her contribution to the output of the Workshop and evolution of British electronic music is somewhat under-appreciated.
Perhaps this record will help start to remedy the situation. Included are early tape experiments, home demos and non-BBC commissions from the early 1970's to the late 2000s. Having listened to 260+ digital audio tapes from Elizabeth's personal archive we have barely scratched the surface but hope to provide an indication of the breadth of her compositional and sound design skills.
Classically trained in cello and piano, Elizabeth graduated from the University of East Anglia with a degree in Music in 1973. She was mentored by Tristram Cary who helped her to become UEA's first recipient of a Masters in Electronic Music and later awarded an Honorary Doctorate by Staffordshire University. Joining the BBC as a studio manager in 1975, Elizabeth transferred to the Radiophonic Workshop in 1978. One of her first tasks was to create special sound effects for Blake's 7 using tape loops, the EMS 100 and trusted VCS3.
Her celebrated score for The Living Planet in 1982 featured early use of the PPG synthesizer and earned an Emmy nomination. Over the following years studio technology evolved rapidly, but Elizabeth transitioned from analogue recording techniques to newer digital platforms with relative ease, using samplers, midi sequencing and computer controlled workstations.
With an incredible 1,400 commissions to her name, she created special sound for The Day Of The Triffids, Lord Of The Rings, countless radio dramas including Iris Murdoch's The Sea, The Sea, Harold Pinter's Moonlight, all of Howard Barker's plays, productions of King Lear, Wordsworth's Prelude and The Pallisers. The success of The Living Planet led to further work for the BBC Natural History Unit followed by numerous commissions for The Natural World. At one point in the late 1980's at least five of her signature tunes were being broadcast every week including Points Of View, Horizon, Doctors To Be and Everyman.
After the closure of the Workshop in 1996 Elizabeth became freelance, arranging Faure's Pavane for the BBC World Cup '98 coverage (reaching no. 9 in the UK singles chart). She wrote additional music for Monty Python's Holy Grail DVD, scored Michael Palin's Full Circle and Sahara TV series, The Lost Gardens Of Heligan and The Human Body with Robert Winston.
Retiring from the music industry in the late 2000's, Elizabeth recently returned to her East Anglian roots and now lives near the coast. She walks daily, listening to all kinds of music, new and old, on her beloved air-pods.

"Los Angeles-born music producer, artist, and DJ DF Tram is thrilled to announce the release of his highly anticipated new album, Bittersweet Afternoon on Orbscure Records. Orbscure Records, founded by Alex Paterson of the legendary electronic act The Orb, continues its tradition of championing innovative and boundary-pushing artists with this remarkable release. About DF Tram DF Tram is a leading figure in the global downtempo electronic scene, celebrated for his meticulously crafted audio-visual performances and immersive storytelling through sound. His work seamlessly blends ambient, sampling, spoken word, vocals, and psychedelia into genre-defying sonic journeys, offering listeners a unique and transformative experience. Bittersweet Afternoon Written and recorded between DF Tram’s Zagreb and Vienna studios during the pandemic and finished last year. Bittersweet Afternoon represents the next chapter in his storied career. The album surprises listeners with his vocals, bittersweet lullabies, and signature collage and spoken word style. Featuring atmospheric soundscapes and cinematic influences, the project reflects the spirit and playfulness of Alex Paterson and Orbscure’s commitment to fostering experimental, forward-thinking music. Adding to the album’s rich tapestry are collaborations with Alex Paterson himself on two tracks, as well as contributions from multi-talented contemporary classical violinist Violeta Vicci on another pair of songs. The first single and video, "The Librarian," offers an immersive glimpse into the world of DF Tram and “Bittersweet Afternoon”. Available on a limited edition transparent blue vinyl, card gatefold CD.

Corrosiv, the sophomore album from Orchestroll, reveals the duo at their most mature and vulnerable. Originally conceived as a reflection on hybridity and bastardization, the album deploys New Age and ambient compositional tropes as a launchpad, exposing their trite sanctity to the realities of corrosion. Having come of age in the 1970s and 1980s, the New Age movement perdures today as a domain of contradictions; its promise of transcendence riddled with the very commercialized dogma from which its adherents claim to flee. Healing modalities such as reiki, crystal therapy, and sound baths are simultaneously pathways to solace and sites of exploitation; their sonic counterparts—ethereal synth pads, shimmering textures, celestial drones—claim to facilitate meditation and enlightenment while devolving into empty signifiers of vitality. With Corrosiv, Orchestroll displays neither reverence nor disdain toward New Age: they exhume it instead, revealing the saccharine effervescence and commodified murk undergirding its aesthetics. The result is intoxicating—disquieting.

Born from a two-week residency at EMS Studios and expanded through a performance at MUTEK Montreal’s 25th anniversary, Corrosiv has since outgrown its original conceptual nucleus, taking on a broader scope. Its inquiry into New Age ideology’s voided rhetoric and aesthetic mysticism now informs a broader interrogation of cultural mediocrity, anti-authoritarianism, gatekeeping, music industry toxicity, and the crumbling edifice of late capitalism and techno-feudalism—all the mechanisms by which meaning is stripped from ceremony, and once-potent forms of knowledge are subsumed into the machinery of economic extraction, severed from their original essence, and transformed into hollow simulacra. Corrosiv distills these themes through a loose narrative: a soul, fixated on wellness as dictated by cosmetic economism, becomes ensnared in an endless afterlife, unable to transcend and shed its dilapidated consciousness.

Framed as an act of audio dissolution, the album thus engages in an alchemical process, whereby complex waveshaping, morphing synthesis, and distortion enact a ritual of fragmentation. There is also friction: between the rigid, mechanical imposition of systematized order and the untamed, chaotic force of organic metamorphosis. Here corrosion and confinement are not solely conceptual motifs; they are enacted in real time, sculpting the album’s terrain. Scraping, tarnishing, degradation—the languid wear of form and substance—become instruments in their own right: buffing as abrasion, entrapment as transformation, corrosion as a means of reconfiguration. The ‘protagonist,’ if there must be one, is the listener, caught within the throes of structural determinism and the potential for emancipation, unable to pass into something greater as the specters of collapsed futures accumulate in the margins.

Corrosiv extends its reach through collaborations with familiar voices: Heith (PAN), VISIO (Haunter), Femminielli (Drowned by Locals), Habib Bardi (Interzone), and Jiyoung Wi (Enmossed, Psychic Liberation, Doyenne) each leave their imprint on its sprawling landscape. At 1h16m, it is a procession, dense with earworms that burrow into the listener’s unconscious.

Misshapen, broken-down metals leach copper into blood, acid reflux burning through the core. Psyche disaggregates into cosmic turmoil, drifting between planes—tongue on rustline, gullet laced with solvent hymns, molars unlatching, bitcrushed to marrowspill. A spasm of brine, ferrous scripture, venomtext blooming in leaden rivulets, cartilage smoldering in phosphor decomposition, synapses drowning in a quicksilver choir. Crest of bile, churning ore, breath clotting into arsenic mist, vein-thread cinched, a corrosive gospel, limb by limb, oxidized to silence.

Ultimately, as the music exhales its final breath, its residue refuses to dissipate—and stillness alone remains. There are no conclusions here—no resolution, no collapse—only the slow drift outward of a vessel unmoored, lost in the sea of symbolic souring. Corrosiv sings the song of a world barren of prophecy, littered with aesthetic detritus. Whether this magic has been transfigured or simply worn away is unclear: the last breath dissipates, but the oxidation does not stop. The silence, too, will decay.

Conceptualized, composed, performed, recorded, mixed, engineered and produced by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier, and Asaël Richard-Robitaille in 2023 and 2024 at Elektron Musik Studion (EMS) - Stockholm, Sweden and Landsc8pe Studio - Montréal, QC, Canada.
Artwork by Jesse Osborne-Lanthier.
Mastered by Stephan Mathieu @ Schwebung Mastering.

Rhino is synonymous with high-quality reissues, setting the standard with award-winning audio releases for the past 45 years. Now we're raising the bar with a new premium vinyl series, Rhino High Fidelity. These high-end, limited-edition vinyl reissues of classic albums represent the pinnacle of sound and packaging.

To ensure consistent sonic excellence, Kevin Gray will cut lacquers for all Rhino Hi-Fi releases, and Optimal will press the 180-gram vinyl records. The releases boast high-quality glossy covers and "tip-on" jackets, an old-school aesthetic that evokes the golden age of vinyl.

"Black Sabbath's debut album is the birth of heavy metal as we now know it. Compatriots such as Blue Cheer, Led Zeppelin, and Deep Purple were already setting new standards for volume and heaviness in the realms of psychedelia, blues-rock, and prog rock. Yet of these metal pioneers, Sabbath are the only one whose sound today remains instantly recognizable as heavy metal, even after decades of evolution in the genre. Guitarist Tony Iommi's loss of two fingertips, which required him to play slower and to slacken the strings by tuning his guitar down, created Sabbath's signature style. These qualities set the band apart, but they weren't wholly why this debut album transcends its clear roots in blues-rock and psychedelia to become something more. Sabbath's genius was finding the hidden malevolence in the blues, and then bludgeoning the listener over the head with it." — AllMusic

The compositions of Miłosz Kędra (b. 2001) explore synthetic sound, electroacoustic music, and self-built acoustic instruments, seeking diverse timbres, tunings, and textures. His main field of work is the pipe organ. Through minimalist motifs, he has transported the instrument’s sound beyond the church space by synthetically processing its tones. He is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in New Media Music at the Academy of Music in Poznań and recently completed a Bachelor’s degree in Electroacoustic Composition, during which he built his own pipe organ from scavenged pipes.

~ Liner notes ~

Miłosz Kędra - "their internal diapasons"

The pipes that Miłosz Kędra used to craft his own organ emulator have lived many lives. They come from churches scattered across Greater Poland—some trimmed for a more presentable façade, others left to gather dust in parish houses until, stripped of purpose, they were cast away. Their first voices have faded, their inner resonance unsettled, yet with patience, one can teach them to sound again—to sing in their altered state, to be gently coaxed out of silence.

Audiomancy—the conjuring of lost sounds—is the word that lingers when I try to grasp the lore crystallizing with Kędra’s second album.

The resolve with which the musician and composer has inhabited his self-built instrument recalls Witold Szalonek and his search for “unexploited properties of wind instruments in classical music.” Szalonek sought to map these hidden voices into a system of multiphonics, revealing over 160 on the oboe alone by 1968. Some sound eerily alike, yet emerge through distinct gestures—“a particular breath, a precise choreography of levers and apertures, the seamless fusion of the two.”

The splitting of a single note into its spectral fragments—allowing a melodic instrument to speak in two, three, even four voices at once—enabled Szalonek to bend the rigid structures of Western music. "their internal diapasons" follows a similar path: an aesthetic bypass through which Kędra taps into the sacred gravity of the church organ, only to reveal it as a domesticated echo of something far older—the primal theater of transformation. To listen closely to an instrument is to learn its flaws, to turn its imperfections into a new way of speaking.

Each of the nine compositions on "their Internal diapasons" is an invitation—to approach the material world with the intent of letting it speak beyond expectation. An instrument that is at once a sculpture, a performance, and a manifesto of voicing the discarded suggests that its creator—following the path of Didier Eribon (Returning to Reims)—might take as his motto, a principle of asceticism, Sartre’s words: “What matters is not what is made of us, but what we ourselves make of what is made of us.”

Filip Szałasek

Sediment is an assemblage of field recordings made in the Swiss canton of Jura on a single day in August 2022. Jura's rock and limestone formations create a complex topology which hosts a diversity of sound spaces; human, more-than-human, geophonic, subterranean and extra-terrestrial. By walking and driving through this landscape curious pockets of activity are revealed to the listener. The layers of strata that make up Jura; earth, rock, forest, cables, pipes, factories, planes and radio towers inform the sound strata. These recordings incorporate and embrace these many layerings; the acoustic, radio, magnetic, vibrational, tectonic, resonant.

Over the course of a day Tim Shaw and Laurent Güdel followed their ears, they visited forests, mountains, rivers, hydroelectric plants, caves, radio broadcast towers, wind turbines, train tracks, sacred wells, man made tunnels and abandoned factories, harvesting sounds from this tangled and ever-changing soundscape. Using various listening devices they attempted to listen into the full spectrum of activity, hydrophonic, geophonic, air-pressure, electromagnetic and radio.

Sounds harvested include pieces of limestone being submerged into water, electromagnetic fall out from cell towers, the resonance of a limestone processing factory, VLF radio, the mechanisms of infrastructure, radio controlled airplanes and acoustic signals. These files are mixed and blended together to create a new stratification.

The final compositions were separately pieced together in each of the artist's studios using the collective corpus of recordings. The result is two different sonic interpretations of this layered, ancient and complex landscape.

Tim Shaw works with sound, light, and communication media to create performances, installations, and site-responsive interventions. His practice spans environmental sound art, digital media, media archaeology and walking. He frequently presents his work at festivals, in forests, caves, warehouses, up mountains, and in museums and art galleries all over the world.

Laurent Güdel explores analogue synthesis, phonography, and sound archives through multi-channel electroacoustic compositions, live performances, installations, and audio publications. His work explores the politics of sound, the means of production of early electronic music, and the archaeology of audio technologies, their infrastructures and institutions. He is also co-curator of Kopfhörer, a series dedicated to live experimental music.

This re-issue of World Machine, Level 42's 1985 breakthrough album, is presented with scrupulous attention to the detail of the original UK first pressings and available in audiophile 180g pink vinyl in celebration of the album's 40th anniversary.

By 1985, Level 42 – bassist and vocalist Mark King, keyboard player/vocalist Mike Lindup, guitarist Boon Gould, drummer/lyricist Phil Gould and studio-only keyboard player Wally Badarou – were on the verge of breaking big - After a string of well-received albums, such as their pioneering jazz-funk 1981 debut or the Ken-Scott produced True Colours, the group decided, rather than work up material through jamming, to sit and write some songs for their forthcoming album.

Producing themselves, with assistance from engineer Julian Mendelsohn, this new approach meant that World Machine was the quantum commercial leap they craved. And most of that was due to the album's towering lead single, the pop-funk of "Something About You". With its expensive video seeing the group styled for the 80s, it set radio alight, becoming a Top 10 hit and charting around the world, importantly in the US. Following up with the tender ballad "Leaving Me Now" and then the bouncy funk of the album's title track as singles, the album's success was guaranteed; it reached No 3 in the UK charts and spent an amazing 72 weeks on the listings.